V for Vendetta
by Elie Rou
Summary: A parody of V for Vendetta: Severus is saved from a fate worse than death by a charismatic man in a mask. Soon, Severus and many others are swept up in the man's urge to unite the people, magical and muggle alike, against the tyranny that plagues Britain.
1. Chapter 1: The Intro

Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Harry Potter. Or V for Vendetta. They are owned by J.K. Rowling and DC Comics (respectively) I'm just playing with the characters. Not making any money from this. And now, on with the show...

Summary: A parody of V for Vendetta: Severus is saved from a fate worse than death by a charismatic man in a mask who's personality bears a remarkable resemblance the deceased (?) Lord Voldemort . Soon, Severus and many others are swept up in the man's urge to unite the people, magical and muggle alike, against the tyranny that plagues Britain.

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(The story opens with Severus laying the foundation for our little tale)

"_Remember, remember, _

_The Fifth of November_

_The Gunpowder Treason and plot._

_I know of no reason _

_Why the gun powder treason_

_Should ever be forgot._

But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know in 1605 he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man. Because a man can fail. He can be caught. He can be killed and forgotten. But four hundred years later an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas. I've seen people kill in the name of them…and die defending them. But you cannot kiss an idea. Cannot touch it or hold it. Ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain. They do not love. And it is not an idea that I miss. It is a man. A man that taught me to remember the fifth of November. A man that I will never forget…"

VVVVVV

Somewhere, deep beneath the streets of London, in a shadowy room covered in old film posters, an equally shadowy character sat before a mirror. Clothed all in black from head to toe and a black wig hiding his face from view, a tall man absentmindedly flicked on a television next to him. The screen immediately produced the pudgy image of one of England's most successful citizens- Cornelius Fudge- former Minister of Magic and now the much revered Voice of London. "I say," began Fudge, "I read today the formerly 'United' States of America are so desperate for medical supplies that they have allegedly sent us several containers filled with wheat and tobacco. A gesture, they said, of goodwill…"Fudge paused for affect before asking in mellow-dramatic voice, "Would you like to know what I think?" The figure before the mirror shook his head slightly, and reached for the highlight of his outfit, a bone white Guy Fawkes mask with a smile forever fixed upon its lips. As he fastened the mask to his face, Fudge continued with his speech.

V

He also spoke to another person in a room in a dingy apartment building on the other side of the city. Severus Snape sat before his own mirror in his own room trying desperately to do something half decent with his hair. "You're watching my show, so I'll assume you do. I think it's high time we let the colonies know what we really think of them. I think it's time we paid them back for a little 'tea party' they threw for us a few hundred years ago."Fudge paused once more for affect and Severus rolled his eyes as the sounds of previously recorded applause poured from the TV. Giving up on his hair for the moment, Severus rose to put on the few nice clothes he owned. After buttoning a black dress shirt, ho looked at himself in the mirror. 'Not bad.' he thought. What did looks matter anyway? He was only meeting up Lucius Malfoy. An estranged friend from years before everything in the country went to shit. Good old Lucius. The fates never did seem to be able to keep him down. After the Side of the Light won the second wizarding war, and Voldemort had disappeared into the 'judicial' hands of the government, Lucius had managed to rise again, reputation (and funds) intact. If there was any show on air that could give Fudge's bit a run for its money, it was Lucius' late night comedy show. They all worked in the same building, Lucius flashing his handsome mugg for the cameras and Severus being the community gopher for all the important employees there. It was really no different from teaching. People in the television business could be just as arrogant and dim witted as the most idiotic of students past.

Despite being co-workers, he'd been rather surprised when Lucius had contacted him and asked if Severus would like to join him for a drink. Why not? Severus also wasn't so stupid as to pass up not only the prospect of companionship, but Lucius was a powerful man; if he played his cards right, Severus thought, he might get access to more food ration coupons, even a little more that the one meal a day his current government supplied ration gave him would be worth going through the trouble of meeting with Lucius at such a late hour. Shaking himself from his thoughts, Severus turned his attention back to the mirror and waited for Fudge to work himself into a political fury as was usual. "What I say is that we go down the docks tonight and dump the colonial crap _everything _from the Ulcered Sphincter of Asserica belongs! Who's with me? Who's bloody with me?" Finished dressing, Severus sat back down and started combing his hair. He glanced at the TV and caught the smug look on Fudge's face as looked into the camera. "Did you like? USA? The Ulcred Sphincter of Asserica? I mean honestly what else can you say? Here was a country that everything and twenty years later is now what? The world's biggest leper colony. Why?" Fudge leaned back in his seat and took on the voice of the highest paid demagogue. "Godlessness. Let me say that again. Godlessness. It wasn't the war they started, it wasn't the plague they created. It was Judgment!" Severus tried pulling his hair back. Useless, it didn't look any better up, than it did down…

V

The dark figure down in the shadowy room buckled a belt laden with steel knives around his waist. "No one escapes their past," Fudge continued, "No one escapes Judgment. You think He's not up there? You think He's not watching over this country? How else can you explain it? He tested us, but we came through!" The man whipped out a black cloak and fastened it around his neck. He turned his back to Fudge's image and settled a wide brimmed hat on top of his wig. "We did what we had to do!" Fudge yelled into the camera. "Islington, Enfield…I was there. I saw it all. Immigrants, Muslims, _homosexuals_! Terrorists, disease ridden degenerates. They had to go!" The masked man looked down his artificial nose as Fudge's face turned a startling shade of red.

V

Across town, Severus had also noticed the color of Fudge's face and felt bile rise in his throat as he knew what the next words out of Fudge would be: _"Strength through unity! Unity through faith!_ I'm a God-fearing Englishman and I'm goddamn proud of it!" "And that's quite enough of that, thank you very much." Severus growled as he turned off the TV. He sighed and looked at the few photos he had of family and friends. Many dead. Either from before the war, like Evan Rosier and Charles Wilkes. Taken down by Aurors after Voldemort's first fall. Or from the violence that had upturned the country during the Reclamation that followed the outbreak of America's civil war...Like his parents. Severus swallowed and looked away. No point in dwelling on memories of Spinners End and what might have been. He turned to look at a clock and started when he saw that it was one minute to eleven. "Oh shit!" Severus exclaimed and grabbing a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it, hurried for the door.

VVVVVV

I should get the next chapter up soon. Reviews are appreciated. ;)


	2. Chapter 2: Multiplying Villanies

VVVVVV

"A yellow coded cufew is now in affect. This is for your protection." Severus hurried along the streets trying to stay out sight. The outdoor intercom system announced once again "A yellow coded curfew is now in a affect. All unauthorized personal will be subject to arrest. This is for your protection." Severus quickened his step. He'd never been out this late before. 'Shouldn't have left the apartment so late,' he thought. Severus looked further up the street and stopped. Someone was standing on a street corner watching him. He looked around and ducked into a side alley. No one was following him. Severus turned around to double check and promptly collided with something hard, yet giving. He looked up and saw a tall, strong man standing right in front of him. "Whoa! Excuse me, sir!" the man exclaimed. Severus took a few steps back, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you." He looked around. A dark alley with some huge man in his way. This wasn't good, and Severus had a feeling that this could get a lot worse.

The large man smirked and took a few steps towards Severus. "In a hurry are we?" Severus winced as the man looked him up and down, then moved closer, "After curfew, you know." Severus moved to go around the man, "My uncle...he's very sick, so I'll just-" The man grabbed his arm, stopping him from going any further. "Oh, sick uncle is it?" Pulling Severus closer to him, the man called out "What do youthink of that, Peter?" Another man emmerged from the shadows, small and portly,and even more unpleasant looking. "Load of bollocks is what I think, Macnair." Oh no, two men? This was very bad. Severus wrestled his arm out of Macnair's grip. "I made a mistake," he said in what he hoped was a calm voice.

Maybe he could talk his way out of this. "I shouldn't be out after curfew, I know that, but my uncle-" "Well maybe you could take care of us before getting back to your uncle." Macnair interrupted asSeverus slowly started sliding his hand into his coat pocket. Hopefully they wouldn't notice..."You see, my friend here, he's kinda sick. Ain't you, Peter." Peter sniggered, "Oh yeah, real sick." Peter grabbed Severus free hand, "Bad case of the blues, here can feel them." As Peter tried to thrust Severus' hand between his legs. Overcome with sudden panic, Severus yanked his hand away and pulled out the can of mace he'd had in his pocket. "Don't touch me!" He back against the alley wall, holding the mace in front of him. Macnair chuckled. "Oh look, Peter, kitty's got claws." Peter advanced on Severus with a cruel glint in his eye. "He just threatened us!" Macnair reached into his own pocket, "That he did, Peter, that he did. That's a Class G offense, ain't it?" Macnair turned to Severus, "You know what that means?" Macnair revealed the badge he'd pulled out of his pocket. The symbol of two, red crosses, one laid over the other on a black background. "It means we get to exercise our own judicial discretion." Macnair crowed. Peter sniggered again, "And you get to swallow it!"

Realization suddenly dawning on him, Severus felt a jolt of terror run through him, "Oh God, you're Fingermen." "Now he's getting the picture," Macnair said to Peter. "Oh no, please!" Severus knew he was begging but he couldn't help it, "I didn't know! I'm sorry-" "Not yet, you're not." Peter growled. "But you will be,"Macnair continued. "If you're not the sorriest piece of arse in all of London by the time the sun comes up, well, you'll certainly be the sorest." Instinct kicked in right there, and Severus turned around and started running out of the alley only to collide with a third man who'd been standing behind him, unknown, all this time. "Oh, God, _no_!" Severus shrieked as the man twisted his arms behind his back. "Please don't do this! I'll go home, I swear! I won't do it again. Please!" "Watcha think, fellas?" Macnair asked as the third man pulled roughly on Severus' arms, sending shots of pain through all the joints. Peter smirked and unzipped his trousers. "Spare the rod, spoil the child," he said and stepped towards Severus as the man holding his arms kicked his legs out from under him, forcing him to his knees on the cobblestone ground. "_Help!"_ Severus shrieked, even though he knew it was hopeless, "Someone, _please_! Help!" Peter stepped forward one last time and grabbed Severus' hair, forcing his head, and his mouth, up.

Hope was lost, when suddenly, from somewhere in the darkness of the alley, a deep, rich theatrical voice broke through Severus' panic. "'The mulitplying villanies of nature do swarm upon him.'" The voice quoted. "What the hell. We're Fingermen, pal!" Macnair shouted, holding up his badge. "Yeah," Peter added, "So bugger off!" The voice now had a face to go with it. As the figure approached, the bone white of the mask shone like beacon in the dark. "'Disdaining fortune with his brandished steal,'" The voice and the mask approached more swiftly, "'which smoked with bloody execution." As the clouds above the alley parted, the moon light glinted off a long steel blade that the figure had drawn. "He's got a knife!" shouted the third Fingerman. Macnair pulled a heavy police baton from his coat, but before he could even get a decent grip on it, the masked figure sliced him across the throat and with a impossibly strong punch, knocked Macnair through the air to crash against the alley wall. The third Fingerman dropped Severus roughly on the ground and ran at the dark figure. A well placed round house kick sent the Fingerman flying into another alley wall. The sickening crunch of bones breaking let the world know that this man wasn't going to get up again.

With these two men dispatched, the figure turned his attention to Peter who had been crawling away, his pants around his ankles. The masked man picked up the police baton and went after Peter. The man stepped on Peter's dropped trousers, forcing him to stop. Peter turned to look up at his captor and cried "Mercy! Please-mercy!" "'We are oft to blame in this,'" masked figure continued and bent to Peter's level. "'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage and pious action, we do sugar o'er the devil himself.'" "Wha...What's that mean?" Peter whimpered. "Spare the rod," the figure explained patiently. And with that, he raised the baton above his head and brought it down on Peter's with wet, gross _crack_!

Severus, who had been laying on the ground and watching the destruction with disbelief, came back to his senses and grabbed the mace he'd dropped from before. He held it close to him as the figure turned around and seemed to eye him, but with the mask on it was impossible to tell. He took a step forward and Severus pressed himself closer to the wall. The man stopped, "I assure that I mean you no harm," he said gently and held uphis hands innocently. Severus let out a small sigh of relief. "Who...Who are you?" he asked. "Who?" the man said. "_Who_ is but the form following the function of _what_ and _what _I am is man in a mask." "I can see that." Severus cut in. The man bowed his head slightly. "Of course you can. I am not questioning your powers of observation. I am merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man _who _he is." "Oh" Severus breathed. "Oh, right..." "But on this most auspicious of nights," the man continued, "permit me then in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this _dramatis persona._"

The figure gave an extravavgant theatre bow. "Voila! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate." Severus looked around. This felt like it was going to be a grand performance, but with him being the only audience member. "This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the _vox populi_, now vacant, vanished; a vital voice once venerated, now vilified. However this valorous visitation of bygone vexation now stands _vivified_ and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violent, vicious, and voracious violation of volition!" The man drew his knife once again and sliced a large V through the government poster hanging on one of the walls. 'Strength through unity! Unity through faith!' the message now marred from the man's sword.

Severus felt his mouth drop open and the man turned and looked over his shoulder at him. "The only verdict is vengance. A vendetta, held as votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous." He paused and tried to stiffle a giggled by covering the mask's mouth with his hands. "Yet verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very great honor to meet you and you may call me V" With that, V bowed deeply and Severus tried to take in everything he had just said. "Are you like a...crazy person?" he asked. Severus could feel V smile behind the mask. "I'm quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, do I have the pleasure of speaking." Severus looked at V for a moment before responding. "I'm Severus" V cocked his head to one side. "Severus?" he asked. "Se-v-erus" he repeated, emphasizing the 'v'. "Yes of course you are." "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means," V continued thoughtfully, "that I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence." he bent slightly and offered a hand which Severus took and rose to his feet. "Are you hurt?" V asked. "No, I'm fine," Severus said as he brushed himself off. "Thanks to you." he added. "I only played my part." V said.

"But tell me, Severus, do you enjoy music?" "I suppose so," he said. Though Severus couldn't really be sure if that was an honest answer. All you heard on the radio nowadays was the government approved tracks. "You see," explained V, "I'm a musician of sorts and on my way to give a very special performance." "What kind of musician?" Severus asked. "Percussion instruments are my specialty but I intend to call upon the entire orchestra for this event." The smile upon V's mask seemed to widen. "And I would be most honored if you would join me." "Oh," Severus started, "I don't think so. I think I should be getting home." "I promise it will be like nothing you've ever heard or seen," V interjected. "And afterwards, you will return to your home quite safely." What to do? 'What the hell?' Severus thought. The man had just saved his life, going to a concert with him was the least he could do payV back. And he seemed polite and trustworthy... "Well, alright."

V

Eventually, Severus found himself on the roof of one of the many apartment buildings in downtonwn London. He looked over the city as moonlight filtered throught the clouds. "It's beautiful," he breathed. V nodded. "A more perfect stage could not be asked for." V said as he looked up at the Old Bailey, an old courthouse built where the infamous Newgate Prison had once stood. The Bailey had seen countless executions in those days and even more since the latest war. "Still," Severus remarked, "I don't see any instruments." "Your powers of observation continued to serve you well." V drew out a white conducter's baton. "But wait!" He gestured towards the Old Bailey and grandly announced "It is to Mother Justice that I dedicate this concerto in honor of the _holiday_ she seems to have taken from these parts...and in recognition of the imposter that stands in her stead." Severus looked up at the statue of Lady Justice and couldn't help but think how she seemed to be on a permanent holiday. The scales she held were never balanced anymore and the sword in her hand was brought down upon many for the slightest transgression. V interrupted his thoughts. "Tell me, Severus...do you know what date it is?" V asked softly. "Um, November the fourth." No sooner had he said those words, when the bells of Big Ben began to chime, signifying that the fourth was over and November the fifth had officially begun. "Not anymore it isn't."

V said and stepped towards the ledge of the roof and began to recite a well known British nursery rhyme . "Remember, remember the fifth of November. The gunpowder, treason, and plot. I know of no reason, why the gunpowder treason should ever be _forgot_." As the last chime of the bells faded into the night, V raised the baton and tapped a lead pipe next him. "First, the overture..." V began waving his arms, mimicking a concert director. "Now the strings." Severus watched in slight disbelief. Maybe this guy was crazy. "Listen carefully," V told him. "Do you hear it?" Severus strained his ears for a moment and was a bit shocked when- he did hear it. Orchestra music floating up from the streets. "I hear it!" he exclaimed and ran toward the ledge.

Down on the streets, the music pouring from the loud speakers woke sleeping civilians. People poured out into the streets to see what could have prompted the government to play loud music at this late hour. Severus turned back to V, who was 'directing' the music with a passion now. "How did you do that?" Severus asked in shock. How did this man gain access to the private government wire? "Wait!" V cried, his movements becoming frenzied. "Here comes the crescendo!" Severus looked back up at the Old Bailey just in time to see it explode into a pillar of fire. The rest of the building followed suit. Ancient stone and old carvings bursting out onto the street as explosions from within the Bailey shook the surrounding area. Severus' hand flew to his mouth to stop a scream at he watched what was left of Lady Justice tumble to the street below. V began laughing manically as fireworks shot up from the burning building. All colors, red, white, blue, purple...Two rockets launched into the air and exploded, creating a large, red V. Another firework shot off encircling the letter. A signiture. As V continued to direct the music comming from the speakers, Severus' one thought was 'What the hell have I gotten into now?'


	3. Chapter 3: An Uncomfortable Meeting

Author's note: This chapter had tobe re-uploaded because another person brought it to my attnetion that I may have inadvertently violated one of the site's writer's etiquette policies- no nonfictional people. I thought that since I'd only referred to the non fictional person, he didn't count as a character, so I'm going to look into that. I only changed part of the sentence, everything else is the same.

Also, I am including the Middle East as the catalyst for international crisis, because in the comic book, 'V for Vendetta,' that is what causes all the turmoil. The countries of the Middle East finally have it out and destroy each other with nuclear weapons. Then chaos breaks out in Africa and the entire continent is somehow wiped out. Finally, the coninent of Europe explodes in nuclear war also. So I'm not needlessly blaming the state of the union in the story on current events. I'm trying to be faithful to the origional story line.

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In a dark, cold room in downtown London, several of the most powerful and most feared men waited in nervous anticipation for the emergency meeting called in the wake of V's act of terrorism. Five of the six men made up what was collectively known as the Head; the five branches of the new government connected directly to the new High Chancellor of magical and muggle peoples alike. All the members had taken the spoils of victory in the form of directors of government departments: there was the propaganda department, the Mouth, headed by Remus Lupin; criminal detection, the Nose, headed by Kingsley Shacklebolt; visual surveillance, the Eye, headed by Fred Weasley; audio surveillance, the Ear, headed by George Weasley; and security services, the Finger, headed by Harry Potter. The sole purpose of these men was to control the country and inspire fear in the hearts of every man, woman, and child who called the British Isles home. One government, for all people, despite their magical or non magical abilities and all were acutely aware of the penalties for speaking out against the new England.

In the wake of Voldemort's fall, muggle people naturally figured out,due tothe mass confusion of the Ministry, that magic was real and that people could use it. The former Ministry of Magic had always assumed, always preached that if the magical world was ever discovered by muggles, there would be chaos. Muggles would fear wizards and work to destroy them as had happened hundreds of years ago. Wizards would be forced to react with violence to save themselves and their way of life. This was why wizards had to hide. This is what the Ministry of Magic _thought _would happen.

No one could have been more wrong. With the discovery of the magical realm, muggles had no time to react with anything but shock, for as soon as Voldemort was gone, an international threat arose. Crisis in the Middle East had come to a head with nuclear war in that area. The result was the split between the political groups in America. Those in power who had supported the country's further involvement in the Middle East were overthrown by the other half of the country that only wanted peace. The dispute quickly escalated to violence and soon, a bloody and terrible civil war broke out for the second time in American history.

No country on earth escaped shock waves as such a giant collapsed. The whole of the free world was greatly affected, England more than any other country. Protests and riots nearly tore thenation in two. Many thought England would have followed America into civil war had it not been for the threat of disease and starvation that forced the people to put aside their differences until something was done to stop it.

This epidemic of disease and violence left a chasm to be filled by a powerful leader, a position that one man went after with a passion. The wizarding newspapers had hinted that he'd had aims to become the next Minister of Magic after Fudge. But why settle for ruling over the magical realm when the muggle one was up for grabs as well and both could be controlled side by side with an iron fist?

A huge screen came to life, taking up one of the massive walls in the room. The familiar image of Albus Dumbldore, the High Chancellor, looked down his crooked nose at the conference members. "Gentlemen you've had four hours," he said coldly, "you'd better have results." The men shuffled, knowing that cameras placed around the room were returning their images to Dumbledore just as they could see him. "Mr. Potter!" Harry Potter looked up at the image of Dumbledore, once a friend and mentor, now the old man was a constant thorn in his side. Harry leaned across the table and his face was revealed by the lamp sitting before him. A hard face and a hard body to go with it. Life had been cruel to him since day one and he returned that cruelty tenfold to the citizens he arrested and detained for whatever reason he saw fit. "The Old Bailey area has been quarantined." the head of the Finger replied casually. "All significant witnesses have been detained." 'And,' Harry thought wryly, 'are having what ever information they might possess tortured out them at the moment.'

Dumbledore only nodded, "Good. George?" George Weasley cleared his throat loudly, "A recording device was found wired into the Central Emergency Broadcast System. The DCD was Tchaikovsky's '1812 Overture'-" "Add it to the Blacklist." Dumbledore ordered, "I never want to hear that music again." George gulped, "Yes Sir. We've also doubled our random sweeps and are monitoring an increased amount of phone surveillance as a result of the bombing." "Remus, what are you planning to do about that?" Remus Lupin sat up in his chair and looked Dumbledore in the eye while coolly saying, "We're calling it an 'emergency demolition.' We have spin coverage on the network and throughout the Interlink. Several experts have been lined up to testify about the Old Bailey's structural integrity." Lupin shot a smug look at the other members of the Head, a bit proud that he'd been so on the ball with this. Dumbledore nodded in approval and added "I want Fudge to speak tonight on the dangers of these old buildings and how we must avoid clinging to the edifice of a decadent past."

As Lupin jotted that down on a pad in front of him, Dumbledore's eyes scanned the others before falling on the sixth man in the room. "Arthur Weasley?" Arthur was hard to make out, always hanging back in the shadows during these things, trying to keep the disgust from his face as he observed the proceedings. He wasn't even a member of the Head. Just a detective who worked closely with the Eye and Ear- close to his sons. But family ties or not, he still had a purpose for being here in Dumbeldore's opinion and the High Chancellor wanted answers.

"Our cameras picked up several images of the terrorist. The mask, however, makes retinal identification impossible but we also managed to get a picture of the boy Harry's men were, uh… _detaining_." "Who is he?" Dumbledore demanded. Arthur hesitated. The young man in the picture looked terribly familiar, and Arthur had a feeling that the person he suspected it was to be true. But he couldn't reveal that now, there was no real proof, yet. Besides, what was the point in causing trouoble for someone who had already been forced to deal with so much tragedy. 'Best to avoid it if possible.' Arthur thought 'Maybe just a little more time…Just to be sure it's not _him_.' So he lied. "Not sure yet, sir, but we're working on several leads." "Anything else?" "We located the fireworks launcher," Arthur continued, happy for a change of topic, "and found traces of explosives at the sight. Unfortunately, it appears that despite the heavy level of sophistication, these devices were homemade with over-the-counter chemicals making them very hard to trace. Whoever he is, Chancellor, he's very good." Dumbledore glared at Arthur through his half moon spectacles. "Save us your annotations, Mr. Weasley, they are irrelevant." Arthur's shoulders sagged at the slight insult. "Apologies, Chancellor."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked at every one of the men in the conference room. "Gentlemen, this is a test." The voice of the old and wise guardian was back, trying to implant the significance of the situation in everyone's mind. "Moments such as these are matters of faith. To fail is to invite doubt into everything we believe and in everything we have fought for. Doubt will plunge this country back into chaos, and I will _not let that happen. _I want this terrorist found, gentlemen. And I want him to know what terror really means." Then, with the same final words, as always, "England prevails!" Dumbledore said before signing off. The motto was mimicked by the surrounding crowd with varying degrees of enthusiasm. "England prevails!"

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Sorry for such a short chapter. The next one is going to be really long and will take a bit longer to do so I made this one seperate. R&R, please and thank you:)


	4. Chapter 4: A Difficult Day at the Office

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And indeed, England did prevail, especially in the Jordan Tower; HQ for the Mouth and Remus Lupin's sphere of influence. As all the other members of the Head ran around in circles, trying to find answers to the newest terrorist threat to satisfy Dumbledore, Lupin sat comfortably on the forty seventh floor, and over saw the news bulletin being filmed to explain away the destruction of the Old Bailey. As the afternoon news cut to a commercial break, Nymphadora Tonks sidled up to Remus' side, a look of nervousness about her. "Do you really think people will buy this?" she asked him. Remus shrugged, "Why shouldn't they? It's our job to report the news, not fabricate it." Remus smiled as the commercial break came to a close. "That's the government's job."

The television screens in the control booth focused on the picture perfect scene of the nation's two favorite TV stars- Neville Longbottom and Cho Chang. Cho had found the perfect profession for her good looks and Neville had finally discovered a field (besides plants) that he was decent at. All they had to do was smile for the cameras and say what Lupin told them to say, no questions asked. So, despite the dubious truth of the next story on their agenda, they followed orders and did so with charming grins. "On the lighter side of things," Neville began, "it seems the crew responsible for the demolition of the Old Bailey wanted to give the old girl a grand, albeit improvised, send off…"

"Though the demolition had been planned for sometime," Cho continued, "the music and fireworks were, according to the crew chief 'definitely not on the schedual.'" After a moment had passed, giving the audience plenty of time to accept this story as the truth, the news' theme music started and Neville announced, "We'll be right back." before the show faded and a commercial took its place.

In another room a few floors below the set, Rolanda Hooch watched the commercial and snorted loudly. She turned to Severus who was bent over a table writing something on a desk calendar. "Do you believe that bloody load of bollocks?" she asked. Severus didn't say anything. He didn't even look up, for fear that Hooch would see his worried expression and begin a game of twenty questions. "That was no bloody demolition," she continued gesticulating wildly, "I saw it! The whole thing, everyone in my flat did! Did you see it?" Severus started. "Oh, er..No." Great. The last thing he needed right now- a reminder of last night's escapades. "Last night, I-" "Oh, that's right!" Hooch interrupted with a sly look in her eye. "Last night you went to go see Mr. Malfoy. So how was it?" Hooch leaned forward, obviously expecting a bit of gossip. 'Shit.' Severus thought, but he was saved from answering, for right at that moment, Tonks bustled into the room with a scowl on her face. "There you are, Severus." she said sharply. "You are _still_ working for me, aren't you?" Severus picked up the walkie talkie he'd turned off and set down earlier. "Sorry, Tonks." he said in as civil a tone as he could muster. It was no secret to anyone who'd even passed through the Jordan Tower that Tonks, as good natured as she usually was, got some weird little kick off of ordering her former teacher about as often, and as meanly as she could.

As soon as Severus looked up at her, Tonks laid the orders out for him. "I need two espressos and three filter coffees from downstairs, and Malfoy is ready for his tea." Severus nodded and Tonks turned to go, but before looking back at him and saying with as much sarcasm as she was capable of, "Oh, and we'd like to have just a bit sooner than yesterday, please." Satisfied with the view of Severus' neck turning red, from either anger or embarrassment, Tonks turned and stalked out of the office.

V

As Severus hurried to follow orders, Arthur Weasley was nodding off at his desk. He'd been up all night trying to find any bit of information on V to deliver to Dumbledore. He'd been staring at the same spot on his computer monitor when his son and assistant, Ron, interrupted his thoughts. "I don't get it. Why does he wear a Guy Fawkes mask and then blow up the Old Bailey?" Ron asked. "Didn't Fawkes try to blow up Parliament?" Arthur looked up at his youngest son. "It's not to late." he answered dejectedly. "Maybe he's just getting started." That was too much to think about right now. There was so much to consider. Who was this terrorist? Who could possibly have the balls to challenge the status quo set by the strongest wizard of all time? And why the hell did Arthur have such a bad feeling about the terrorist's accomplice? The ring of a telephone pulled Arthur from his pondering. Ron grabbed the phone. "Hello? Yes. Come again? Oh my.. Yeah, thanks." Ron slammed the phone down, leapt to his feet and grabbed his coat. "A lead on the accomplice!" Ron told his father excitedly, "And you'll never guess who it is!" Arthur got up and pulled his own coat on, following Ron out the office. He shook his head, he'd already figured who the man was. Now he just wondered if the Fates would be kind enough to let him and Ron get to him first- before Harry's men did.

V

The accomplice in question was currently balancing a heavy silver tray and opening a door to the sounds of Malfoy trying to talk one his writers out pushing a script. "Look don't get me wrong, I love it!" Malfoy said grandly to the speaker phone on his desk. "A cow getting crucified, it's hysterical, but you'll never get it pass the censor, you'll have to rewrite it okay?" Lucius hung up the phone as Severus set the tea tray down. He turned around and saw Lucius smiling a little at him. "I can't recall ever being stood up by a more attractive man." Lucius joked. "Mr. Malfoy-" "Lucius, please. We're friends and I don't need Mister to make me feel any older." Severus sighed and started again. "Lucius. I was on my way last night, but there were Fingermen and I got a little scared and went home." Lucius seemed to buy it. He nodded and said "Sadly, I think after last night our curfew will only get worse. These days, home is probably the safest place to be."

V

Not for Severus. While he was talking with Lucius at the Jordan Tower, Arthur and Ron were busy busting down the door to his apartment. Entering with guns drawn, Arthur looked around the small room before decideing that no one was there and it as unlikely that anyone could hide very well in a drab room with hardly any furniture. So, instead of arresting anyone, they did the next best thing- opening drawers and the little closet, rifling through personal things, trying to turn up anything that might help their case. As Ron pulled a few books off the one shelf in the room and dumped them on the floor, Arthur slowly advanced upon the mirror with all of Severus' photos stuck to it. He looked at old ones of friends and times past. When he saw an image of Severus' parents, he looked away. He shouldn't be here, in their son's room, going through his things looking for enough information to have him arrested, hauled off and never heard from again. Arthur tried to avoid the gaze of the picture perfect, very happy parents by looking down and lo and behold, he found a clue. An old press pass for the Jordan Tower, stuck at the bottom of the mirror. The pass had generic information and Severus' photo on it. It had VOID stamped across it, but it was useful nonetheless. Forgetting his previous guilt about the situation, Arthur allowed himself a small smile, "Gotcha."

V

Back at the Tower, Severus pushed a heavy cart piled high with delivery boxes onto the forty seventh floor. Despite being the head security guard for that specific floor, Argus Filch didn't even glance up as Severus stopped the cart right in front of his desk. "Hey Filch." Severus said in what was probably the cheeriest mood he'd been in all day. Though that wasn't really saying much in his case. Filch tore his eyes away from a television monitor fixed to the ceiling long enough to glance at the boxes and ask "All that stuff been x-rayed yet?" he asked gruffly as he turned his attention back to the show he as watching. "Nope." Severus joked, "They're filled with bombs." Filch rolled his eyes slightly. "Well, wait 'til commercial to set 'em off, will ya?" he growled as he handed Severus a delivery form to sign. Severus glanced up at the TV and scribbled his name on the form. "I can't believe _you_ watch that shit." he said, referring to the show Storm Saxon, that Filch was currently glued to.

More government propaganda. Young attractive blonde haired heroes dominated the screen as they ran about saving England from Muslim terrorists or what have you. "What?" Filch cried with indignation. "But Laser Lass is banging!" Severus just laughed and pushed the delivery cart down the hall to one of the dressing rooms. As soon as he entered, Severus had to maneuver the heavy cart around a room filled with young women either dressed up as cancan girls, or trying to get into a similar costume. As most dressing rooms and behind the scenes action, the area was in total chaos. He finally got the cart to the head of costumes, an older woman who was busy fixing the fish net leggings on one of the cancan girls.

"What's all that?" she asked, slightly out of breath. "Not sure," Severus replied. "Just arrived…Marked for Stage Three." the woman stood up and begin to open one to the boxes. "As if I don't have enough problems already," she grumbled. "Must be Fudge," she complained to Severus. "Wish someone had the balls to tell him this station ain't his own bloody playground!" She finished ripping the box open and pulled out what was inside it. "What the hell is this?' she asked holding up a mask. A white mask. V's mask. Severus felt his heart stop beating and the blood drain from his face. The costume director didn't seem to notice any of it. She angrily stuffed the mask back into the box. "Just put it over there until I figure out what it's for." she snapped.

V

Arthur and Ron hurtled down the streets at break neck speed trying to get to the Jordan Tower as soon as possible. As Ron swerved around a truck that was going entirely to slow, Arthur scrolled down Severus' file which he'd pulled up on his lap top. "This looks serious…" he murmured. Ron glanced at the file. "What is it?" Arthur sighed and tried to organize his thoughts. "Ron, how much of Snape's history do you know? After the war with Voldemort, I mean." Ron shrugged. "I know he was being detained at the Ministry, so he didn't take part in the final battle. After the war, Dumbledore got the Ministry to let him go without so much as a formal hearing." Arthur nodded. "Anything else?" Ron shook his head. "He disappeared. No one heard in the wizarding world heard from him again." Arthur frowned and looked back at the file. "Not exactly." he said. Ron pressed down on the gas peddle and ran straight through a red light to the sound of several horns honking. "What do you mean?" "I mean," Arthur began, "that after the war, he didn't 'disappear.' He went back home to his family." "Family?" Ron asked. "Snape doesn't have a family." Arthur sighed. "Not anymore, no."

When Ron didn't say anything, he continued. "Snape went back home to his parents. A lot of people did after the war and all the shit that followed; he most likely wanted to be near his family. According to his file, his parents, Tobias and Eileen, were political activists and they were _very _opinionated. They were…_detained_ shortly after Dumbledore came to power." "Where are they now?" Arthur scrolled down a little more. "Oh, Jesus... Eileen died during a hunger strike at a relocation camp and Tobias kicked the bucket during a prison up rising." Ron frowned, not the most pleasant way to go, no, but the torture the two had most likely endured while imprisoned probably made death a welcome guest. "What happened to him?" "Convicted of aiding and abetting. Looks like Dumbledore came to his aid for the last time. Instead of being relocated, he was sent to the New Reclamation Program…for four years." "Shit!" Arthur nodded in agreement. "That's not the worst of it. His younger brother was at St. Mary's" Ron nearly took out a lamp post on hearing this. "Snape had a brother?" "Yes, he fourteen when St. Mary's struck. If I remember correctly, he got a Hogwarts letter, but Tobias and Eileen opted not to send him after all the problems that Snape had in school. Needless to say, the Snape family had lost all trust in Dumbledore a long time ago." Ron shook his head. "Snape's brother was fourteen? That's a huge age difference." Arthur sighed, "It doesn't make his loss any less tragic, Ron." Arthur pulled out his cell phone. "We're going to need back up, I don't think Snape is going to be all to happy to see us again, but I want to keep it below radar." Ron shot his father a look. "You think that's wise, Dad?" Arthur began dialing numbers. "I just want a chance to talk to him before he disappears into one of Harry's black bags."

VVVVVV

Whew, this was a bitch to write with all the scene changes. Severus' story will slowly unfold, and soon, some hints as to what happened to Voldemort after the war!


	5. Chapter 5: V

Finally! Chapter five! I basically had to write this one paragraph at a time because I had houseguests these past few days and I couldn't spend too much time on my computer, but it is finished. I also want to make a note

Note: Please excuse any spelling/gramatical errors. I have no beta and have edited this story on my own thus far. I do my best but sometimes things slip by, especially grammer.

Now...Enjoy!

VVVVVV

Severus hurried away from the dressing rooms on the forty seventh floor as fast as he could without causing any suspicions. V was up to something, he just knew it. With any luck, Severus would be able to get out the Jordan Tower before V showed up to reign doom on the whole building. He turned a corner and ran into the office he and Hooch had been sharing earlier. He grabbed his keys and messenger bag and ran back towards the elevators. However, the elevator that Severus was in desperate need of was currently being used by another. As Filch sat at his security desk, still watching Storm Saxon, a tall man stepped out of the elevator. His black cloak swirled around him. It was the cloak's movement that caught Filch's attention. He looked up as the man stepped towards the security desk.

Startled by the sudden appearance, Filch jumped to his feet. "What the hell?" he shouted. The man's head was bent down, thus, Filch couldn't see his face. Filch drew his gun; the only weapon allowed since wand selling had been banned to control riots. He raised it with shaky hands, this man was terrifying him. "You show me ID," Filch demanded, "or I'll go Storm Saxon on your ass!"

At this, the man raised his head. A white mask smiled at Filch as he flicked his robe open to reveal an armored vest strapped with layers and layers of red explosives. "Bloody hell…" Filch stammered and lowered his gun when the masked man held out his arm- a detonation device gripped tightly in his gloved hand. V turned around and pulled a fire alarm right at the instant that Severus pressed the elevator button.

Severus looked up in alarm as a familiar government recorded voice ordered "Will all personal are please evacuate the building- this is not a drill." Severus looked around as every employee on that floor left their offices and started moving towards the stair well. At at loss of what to do, Severus allowed himself to be pulled along towards the exits signs at the end of the hall.

Down on the first floor, Arthur cursed loudly when the alarms sounded and the elevators refused to move. He turned to Ron and the several security men that had come to act as back up. "Up the stairs!" Arthur ordered and fifteen men all crammed together to make it up the narrow stair case. While people were rushing up and down the stairs of the Jordan Tower, V was busy locking himself in the emergency broadcasting room. He pulled a device out from inside his cloak and jammed it into the doors he had just shut behind him. Immediately, cement begin to fill every available nook and cranny, effectively locking Lupin and Tonks out. "Damn it!" Lupin raged as he pounded on the sealed door. One of the spare security guards Lupin had brought with him tried the handle. "It's jammed." "Break it down, then!" Lupin screamed. This could not be happening. The Jordan Tower, everything that Lupin had worked for after the Reclamation, it was _not_ going to be destroyed all because of some bloody terrorist!

As the security guard struggled to obey Lupin's orders, Severus had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw two men fighting their way through the crowd. One of the men, balding, red hair- looked directly at Severus. 'Arthur Weasley!' Severus thought, shocked at seeing him for the first time in six years. Arthur pointed at Severus, looked back and shouted something at Ron. It took all but a nanosecond for Severus register that Arthur was no longer a friend, but an enemy. When Arthur and Ron started sprinting up the hall, obviously on getting to their man before he could escape, Severus turned around and careened down the hall way. He was running faster than he ever had- muscles pumping harder than ever from adrenalin due to the sudden panic. Severus took almost went almost bashed right into a wall as he turned a corner and headed for a door at the end of the hall. An office; it would have to do for a hiding place now. It took longer than necessary for Arthur and Ron to get to the split in the hall where they were sure Severus had run to. Arthur looked down one hallway, then the other. Finally, he motioned for Ron to take one, and he the other.

While the two detectives begin searching random office rooms, V had managed to find the operators of the emergency broadcast controls. He held the detonator out before him, as a reminder of what would happen if they did not cooperate. The managers of the floor nodded to one of the operators. At this sign of submission from his superior, the operator put a small compact disc into the controls and tuned it to broadcast over the entire country.

After Ron had burst into an office and took a quick glance around before leaving Severus moved some boxes away from his head to see if all was clear. He crawled out from under the desk he'd been hiding under and grabbed the door handle. He didn't open it, though, for a very familiar voice greeted his ears. "Good evening, London." V's voice drifted down from a TV mounted high upon the wall in the office. All over the country, TVs large and small had gone blank, only be replaced by V sitting at a desk before a red curtain, looking as if he was delivering the evenings news. He was, in fact, getting ready to deliver a message of revolution. "First, allow me to apologize for this interruption," Lupin and Tonks were distracted from the guards trying to drill through the doors that led to V. "That's the emergency channel!" Lupin screamed. That meant that whatever V was saying on the television would be broadcast to every TV in England. Oh, Dumbledore was going to be _furious._ V's voice continued, "I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of the everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquility of television. Why, I enjoy them as much as any bloke!" Arthur came out of the supply closet where he had been looking for Snape. He looked up a TV in the hallway and his mouth fell open. Right there, in Technicolor, was the terrorist. Broadcasting right from this station, right under Arthur's nose! Arthur came back to his senses as V began to speak again. "In the spirit of commemoration, whereby those important events of the past, usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle are celebrated with a nice holiday, I thought this year we could mark November the Fifth…a day that is sadly no longer remembered…by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat."

Lupin was pacing in the hallway, trying to figure out some way to lessen this blow. "Lemme think, lemme think…" he mumbled while Tonks stood off to the side, awaiting orders. "There are those, of course, who do not wish us speak." V informed his massive audience. "I suspect that right now, orders are being shouted into telephones and men with guns will soon be on their way." V's faux smile stretched across his mouth a little more as one of the guards approached Lupin and handed him a cell phone, "The High Chancellor." the guard said. "Damn." Lupin grabbed the phone and braced himself. V leaned forward in his seat, "Everything and anything will be done to stop me from talking to you…Why?"

'Yes,' Severus thought, still fixed to the spot in the office, 'Why?.' "Because," V replied, "while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will _always _retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning and to those who will listen, the enunciation of truth and the truth is…there is something _very wrong _with this country…isn't there?" Lupin was not listening to V but shouting into the phone at Dumbledore, something only one or two people had ever done and lived to tell about. "_You_ designed it, Sir! _You_ wanted it foolproof! You told me _every_ television in London-"

"I know why you did it." V pressed, "I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease…there were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reasons and rob you of your common sense." The expression on V's face seem to fall with disappointment. "Fear got the best of you, and in your panic, you turned to the now High Chancellor Albus Dumbledore, with a kind smile and twinkling eyes, he made you trust him. He promised you order, he promised you peace and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent."

Ron met up with Arthur in the stairwell between the forty sixth and forty seventh floors. "They're almost here." Ron informed Arthur. He was, of course, speaking of Harry's Fingermen. Whether they were on their way because they knew about V's broadcast, or because Harry had tracked Snape down, Arthur could only guess. However, he knew for a fact that once Harry arrived, things would only go from worse, to horrifically bad. V cut through Arthur's thoughts, "Last night, I sought to end that silence. Last night, _I _destroyed to Old Bailey to remind this country of what it has forgotten!" Lupin felt the light bulb click on in his head, he turned to Tonks and the guards. "Cameras, we're going to need cameras." he ordered.

V continued with his speech. "Four hundred years ago, a great citizen wished to embed the Fifth of November forever in our memories. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words…they are _perspectives_. So if you have seen _nothing_. If the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I suggest you allow the Fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see- if you feel as I feel and if you seek as I seek; freedom from the tyranny and an end to this oppression, then I ask you to stand beside me, one year from last night and together we shall give them a Fifth of November that shall _never, ever be forgot!_"

V's image disappeared from the screen and was replaced by a large, encircled V. Severus took this as his cue to make another run for it. A few floors above him, Lupin was standing right behind Arthur, holding small home video camera in his hands. The security guards all had their guns drawn. In a second they busted down the doors to the emergency broadcast room and entered. There was a thick smog, making it difficult to seen anything in the depths of the set. "Kerosene fog," Lupin explained to Arthur. "He's using our smoke machines." Arthur nodded and pointed to two security guards. "You two, stay here. The rest of you, come with me."

Arthur lead the men into the hazy room. He nearly fired on the spot when he saw a tall, cloaked silhouette emerge from the darkness. The figure moved towards the exit and several guards became trigger happy. After taking three shots to the chest, the man collapsed on the floor. Arthur ran over to him and ripped of the mask. The man beneath it was small, fat and balding. 'This can't be him.' Arthur thought… "He put masks on all of us!" the man cried. Sure enough, a dozen more cloaked men came forward, all shouting at the police, "Don't shoot! Please don't shoot!" "Quiet!" Arthur roared. "Down on your knees. Down on your knees now!"

All the men dropped to the floor. Arthur moved towards the closest one. "Please hurry!" the man's plea was muffled by the mask. Arthur yanked it off roughly. "There's a bomb wired to the control booth!" Lupin turned white on hearing this. "Oh no." he breathed and ran towards the control booth. Arthur looked around hurriedly, "Jones! Get everyone not wearing a mask out of here! Marshall, help carry this man. Everyone else, let's go!"

While Arthur began searching for more people trapped in the studio, Lupin had made his way to the control booth. "Dear God…" Lupin's knees almost gave out on him when he saw a large vest, strapped with rows and rows of dynamite sitting on a the sound booth. Next to the vest was a clock that was counting down from four minutes and making great headway towards reaching three. Lupin sat down as Arthur dashed into the control booth. "Do you have any idea how long it would take to rebuild this facility?" Lupin asked no one in particular. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Arthur asked in return.

Outside the studio, Jones had been doing very well in getting people out in an orderly fashion. The last two evacuees stepped past the door and Jones was just about ready to evacuate himself when one of the men was thrown violently to the ground. Jones and the four guards aiding him drew their guns and aimed point blank at the person on the ground. "It's him! It's _him_!" the man cried. Jones turned to the man still standing. The figure was quiet and still. Jones took a step forward and reached for the mask. He swallowed hard and in a swift motion tried to tear it off. The face beneath was that of a old man with scared eyes and a duct taped mouth.

Jones turned around with every intention to beat the shit out the other evacuee, only once he turned around, the evacuee jumped in the air. He pulled a long knife from a scabbard at his waist and dug it right into Jones' sternum. Before Jones had time to hit the ground, V was in the air again, a knife in each hand. He swung them with grace and embedded each tip into each guard. Blood spattered both the walls and the gagged witness as V cut nearly cut the head of one of taller guards. He sliced an X through another and turned before seeing the blood pool on the linoleum. He stabbed the third guard in the eye, then pushed further, digging the point into the man's gray matter. V finally came nose to nose with the last. The guard couldn't see it, but V looked him right in the eye as he thrust both blades into the man's chest and twisted them. V withdrew the blades and turned away, running down the hall. One of the men he left behind threw up blood over his front and then crumpled to the floor. The man with the duct taped mouth, the only one V left alive, promptly fainted onto the blood stained floor.

Back in the control booth, Remus Lupin was holding pair of wire cutters glaring at two wires attached the bomb. One red, the other green. He looked at the clock, twenty-three seconds to go. "Here it goes." he said to himself and wrapped the cutters around the green wire. 'No.' he thought and swiftly cut the red one. 10, 9, 8, 7- 0:00. The clock had stopped. "I did it." Lupin said unbelievably. "I did it!" With certain death avoided, Arthur ran out of the booth to find V, who was currently heading towards the same stairwell that Severus was. As Severus rounded a corner he saw V in front of him. V had his back to Severus and apparently didn't seem to notice him. Severus ducked behind a corner as V threw his cloak over his shoulder. Just as V reached for the door handle that lead to the stairs, a very familiar voice shouted "Freeze!"

Severus looked around the corner and scowled when he saw another red head, another Weasley. "Get your hands on your head." Ron ordered. "Do it _now_, or I shoot." Severus watched in awe as V did as Ron told him. 'This is _Ronald_ Weasley,' Severus thought, annoyed at V's submission. 'This little wanker was as horrid at combat lessons as he was at potions! No self respecting person would show throat to _Ronald Weasley _of all bloody people!' No, V couldn't be taken down by Ronald. Severus just couldn't let that happen, and besides…last night, V's message on the TV… For a moment, Severus felt a warmth spread through him that he hadn't felt in years. Despite the fear in his gut, Severus moved fully out from behind the corner and looked down the hall as V put his hands on his head and turned around to face the former member of the Golden Trio.

"I must say, I am rather astonished by the response time of London's Finest." V said. Ron smirked, "We were here before you even got started." Ron lied. He couldn't believe he had the terrorist here at gun point! He was going to be a hero! His dad would be so proud of him… V suddenly looked up over Ron's shoulder at something further down the hall. "Oh I don't know about that," V said. For a moment, Ron thought V was commenting on his thoughts and not his lie. He almost jumped a foot in the air when he felt a _tap tap _on his shoulder. Ron turned around and nearly swallowed his tongue. There, standing right behind him was none other than 'the greasy git,' Snape, the reason why Ron and Arthur had come to the Jordan Tower. And he was right here, with V. "Mr. Weasley." Severus stated. Ron's face twisted into a sneer of hate. "You-!" Ron was cut off by a burning pain in his eyes. Severus finally got to give his can of mace a proper work out and did so by spraying all of its contents directly into Ron's ruddy little face. He only got to fully enjoy a second of it, however, for Ron had very good aim for being half blind. He swung his arms madly and there was a resounding _crack!_ of the butt of his pistol connecting solidly with Severus head.

Severus fell to the form, unconscious while V knife struck Ron's neck, effectively putting him under as well. V turned to head down the stairs, but paused. He looked back at young man who had, in all likelihood, just saved him. V pondered the matter of leaving him. It didn't seem right… V felt like there was a history between himself and this man that stretched back much further from last night and just now. He pondered this feeling as he walked around to where Severus lay. 'Yes,' V thought. 'There's something much more…'

V

Several hours later, Arthur and Ron sat back at their office viewing video surveillance footage from the Jordan Tower crisis. Arthur played and replayed a certain few minutes of tape while Ron sulked in the corner, nursing burning eyes, a stinging grudge from his school days and a devastating blow to his pride. Ron looked over his father's shoulder as the familiar scene of V staring at Severus prone form for a long moment before bending down and scooping the bastard up in his arms. "What's he thinking?" Ron asked himself. 'Honestly, Dumbledore just got the man off on charges of aiding Voldemort and now Snape just had to go and throw his lot in with this V guy?' Maybe his old professor just had a soft spot for charismatic vigilantes who wore all black and had V in their initials.

Arthur thought that Ron's question voiced his own thoughts on what V was thinking. "He's thinking about leaving him…" Arthur murmured to himself, "After Snape just saved his life." "He's a terrorist, Dad." Ron fumed. "You can't expect him to act like you or I would!" Arthur just shook his head, "Some part of him's human," he insisted, "and for better or for worse, Snape stuck with him…" Arthur closed his eyes. He had a feeling this whole thing was going to bring up a lot of dirty laundry. A lot of old personal histories were going to be rediscovered, not to mention the political shit that was bound to pop up. But right now, Arthur just wanted to know why Snape would throw his life away for a terrorist. He couldn't possibly stupid enough to go down that path twice, could he?

VVVVVV


	6. Chapter 6: No Good Deed

-1I ain't dead yet. Sorry about the long hiatus, guys. I personally hate it when I start to read a story, and then the author just drops off the face of the earth. I had a lot going on, life, mostly. But now that it's summer, I don't have to deal with as many school/social related problems.

Again SO SORRY. I'm going to really try to get this updated regularly, I promise.

VVVVVV

Severus woke in a small, dark room. That was about all he was able to register before his attention was turned to the painful throbbing in his. He touched his forehead gingerly and felt the lump that Ron's pistol had left. With the memory of Severus' and Ron's reunion also came the memories of the events of what had happened in Jordan Tower and the knowledge that Severus was, once again, a wanted man. He released a shuddering breath and tried to gain his bearings. It was then that Severus realized he was in a bed, and this bed was not his. More importantly, this was not his home, in fact, he had no idea where he was. The room he was in contained a bed and more books than Severus thought had even existed in the Hogwarts library. They were stacked all around, in massive piles, jutting out from shelves and drawers. This wouldn't have been such a cause for concern until Severus was able to read some of the titles; _Catcher in the Rye, Bohemian Manifesto, To Kill a Mockingbird, Fahrenheit 451... _All of them banned by the government and black bag worthy if found in one's possession. Rolling out of bed, Severus stood up and noticed the door to the room was ajar. Whoever brought him here must not be too concerned about him wandering around. He headed out the door and into a long hall. After taking a few steps, the sounds of soft, slow music began to drift down the corridor.

_Now you say you loved me_

_You cried the whole night through_

_Well you can cry me a river_

_Cry me a river_

_I cried a river over you…_

Severus swallowed to prevent a sob from escaping him. The music sounded exactly like Dad's old jazz albums. Memories of listening to them and watching snow fall while Mum made Christmas dinner and listening to Dad jokingly tell her that music was one thing muggles had on wizards. For a moment, the grief was almost too much to bear. Only the curiosity of where the music was coming from kept Severus from running back down the hall and away from his tragic recollections.

_Now you say you're sorry _

_For being so untrue_

_Well you can cry me a river_

_Cry me a river_

_I cried a river over you_

Halfway down the corridor, Severus realized that the walls were covered in priceless art work- images that he'd nearly forgotten. Paintings by masters, artifacts from Egypt and Greece. Small statues of Buddha sat inside a glass a glass shelf… whoever lived here was very brave to risk having a replica of a "false icon" as the Head put it. Severus rounded a corner and saw the source of the music; an old juke box rested against the wall and the soft melodies floated from it as red and green lights flickered in time to the beat.

_Now you say you're sorry _

_For being so untrue_

_Well you can cry me a river_

_Cry me a river_

_I cried a river over you_

Severus looked at in a shock for a moment. At a glance, he could see that the jukebox was filled with songs that had long been black listed or even destroyed altogether. Severus caught a glimpse of the ivory mask as it emerged from the darkness. Frightened, he whirled around as V emerged fully into the light. V cocked his head to the side as he continued to approach the jukebox. "You scared me." Severus explained and backed away slowly. "My apologies," V replied. "Are you feeling alright?" "Yes, thank you." Severus eyed V warily as the masked man began flipping through song selections.

_You drove me, nearly drove me_

_Out of my head_

_While you never shed a tear_

_Remember, I remember_

_All that you said_

"What is this place?" Severus asked looking around at the variety of objects. "My home," V said and the smile on his mask seemed to widen a little bit. "I call it the Shadow Gallery." "It's beautiful. Where did you get all this stuff?" V switched the song and shrugged. "Here and there. Much of it comes from the vaults of the Ministry of Objectionable Material." For what seemed like the hundredth time, Severus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You stole them?!" Suddenly afraid, Severus seriously began to doubt the man's intentions. Who stole from Albus Dumbledore?

V's chuckle interrupted Severus' frantic thoughts, "Heavens no! Stealing implies ownership." V explained, "You can not steal from the censorship, I merely….reclaimed them." Severus shook his head,

"God, if they ever find this place-"

"I suspect that if they ever do find this place, a few bits of art will be the least of my worries."

Severus frowned, "You mean, after what you've done? Oh God…" The memories of the last forty- hours floated to the surface. "What have I done?! I maced that detective. Why did I do that?" Severus felt his knees go weak from the sudden fear that seized him. V took a tentative step forward. "You did what you thought was right," V explained.

Severus shook his head. "No, I shouldn't have done that… I must have been out of my mind!"

V cocked his head to the side and calmly asked, "Is that what _you_ really think… or is that what _they_ want you to think?"

Severus frowned at those words. The world he was living in may not be a perfect place, but he could certainly think for himself. So, then, why had he done something when he knew what the consequences would be? This was all too confusing. Severus just wanted to go back to his apartment and deal with it there. "I think I should go."

"May I ask where?"

"Home," Severus said hurriedly, "I have to go home."

"You said they were looking for you. If they know where you work, they certainly know where you live."

That was true. Severus couldn't go home. Where could he go, then? He remembered Lucius' note. "Well, I have friends, I can stay with them," Severus said, hoping V wouldn't hear the desperation in his voice.

"I'm afraid that won't work either." V sighed and said empathetically, "You have to understand, Severus, I didn't want this for either of us but I simply couldn't see any other way. You were unconscious and I had to make a decision. If I'd left you there, right now you would be in one of Potter's interrogation cells. They'd imprison you, torture you, and all probability, kill you in the pursuit of finding me." Severus felt himself blanch at the prospect of being on the receiving end of Potter's interrogation techniques. The stories he'd heard…

V continued. "After what you did for me, I couldn't let that happen. So I picked you up and carried you to the only place I knew you'd be safe. Here, to my home."

Instinctively, Severus put his hand out in front of him, palms facing V, trying to show the man he wasn't the threat V seemed to think he was. "I won't tell anyone, I swear. You know you can trust me."

V shook his head and the smile on his mask seemed to fall a little bit. "I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk."

"But I don't even know where this is," Severus cried. "We could be anywhere!"

"You know it's underground. You know the color of the stone. That would be enough for a clever man."

"What are you saying, then? I have to stay here?" He couldn't be stuck here forever. Not after he had worked so hard to live a normal, quiet life, Severus just couldn't be forced to give all that up.

"Only until I'm done. After the 5th I don't think it will longer matter."

"You mean a year from now? I have to stay here for a year?" At that moment, 365 days felt more like a lifetime sentence.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't know what else to do."

This wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. No matter what he did, Severus always found himself in the middle of some kind of disaster. He'd paid his debts to Albus and the rest of the wizarding world. He'd been careful to toe the line after the Reclamation. Even after losing his family and being forced into that 'reeducation' program, Severus thought that by keeping his head down, there was a small chance for a peaceful existence. But ever since V showed up, Severus had to watch as everything he'd worked so hard to hold together fall apart again. Severus felt a type of anger welling up inside of him that he hadn't experienced in a long time. He glared hatefully at V.

"You should have just left me alone!" Severus yelled at the masked man. "Why didn't you just leave me alone?!"

Without waiting for a reply, Severus turned and ran from the parlor, back to the room he had woken to find himself in.

V stood completely still during Severus' outburst. Even when the door slammed, he didn't budge. Letting out a slow, shuddering sigh, V let his head fall to look at the floor. He hadn't really expected Severus to take the news very well. After all, no good deed goes unpunished.

VVVVV

Okey, dokey. Here's hoping that I'm not forced to go another 9 months without an update.

Sorry this chapter was so short.


	7. Chapter 7: The Ghost of Christmas Past

-1Ah, jeez. It was only 3 months, ok! Just kidding. This one had a lot of dialogue and when you're copying it off a movie, it means, watching that movie A LOT.

Here's a round of applause for all you who reviewed and faved this story. You guys motivated me to just get to gettin' with this chapter!

Please read the author's note at the bottom. Have fun, kids!

VVVVV

Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with the case if there were many more late nights like these, nights spent doing back ground checks on any one who may have stood in line behind Severus at a supermarket and staring at the same surveillance footage. Ron bustled in with stacks of files. He looked as exhausted as Arthur felt.

"Anything else on the parents?" Arthur asked, not expecting to hear what Ron had to say.

"They were interred at Bell Marsh." Arthur's head shot up from the screen; he'd heard of that prison and its gruesome interrogation practices. "Oh no."

Ron nodded, irritated that he was feeling sympathy for his most hated teacher. "Yeah. I also found papers confirming that Snape was always present for the morning and evening counting in the New Reclamation Program. There's very little information, though." Ron frowned. In Muggle Studies classes, they had briefly skimmed over a section of Muggle history between the years 1939 and 1945. He vividly remembered watching a horrible film about a place called Auschwitz- a death factory where some crazy muggle leader had sent all those he considered undesirable. The prisoners in Auschwitz also had to stand for hours on end while the guards counted exactly how many were still alive, the numbers growing smaller each day. Ron hadn't found anything on what was actually done to the people in the New Reclamation Program. Lot's of young people went in, and few came out. The few never talked about what they went through.

He hadn't uncovered any description of gas chambers or crematoriums, so why did he feel like the Program and Auschwitz had so much in common? "Christ."

Shaking his head, Ron flipped through the files. "There's nothing but bad luck here."

Arthur picked up some of the files and began to search along with Ron. "Well, we've got Snape's story. Now we just need his." Looking at V's image, Arthur hunkered down for another string of long nights.

VVV

Severus laid in bed in his guest room. After his little episode last night, he had the feeling that he should apologize to V. It was doubtful that Severus would be getting out of the Shadow Gallery anytime soon. On the off chance that he had to live with the man for the next year, Severus figured they should at least be friendly…Well, Severus figured he should be more friendly, or whatever. That included making things right with his host. He could hear V clanking around in what sounded like a kitchen. Pots and pans were banging. Swallowing his pride, Severus climbed out of bed and followed the sounds to find V standing over a stove and a frying pan.

"V?" V spun around with the frying pan in his hand and the smile on his mask widened. "A, bonjour, Monsieur!"

Severus took a deep breath, why was he so nervous about a stupid apology? "I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. I understand the risk you took for me and I wanted to tell you that I'm grateful…" He trailed off when he noticed the flesh on V's hands was deformed. Red and swollen in some parts, skeletal in others. Almost as if the skin and muscle had… melted off the bone. Feeling a wave of concern wash over him, Severus took a tentative step toward V. "Your hands-"

V stilled, and looked down, then away, as if he were embarrassed. He cleared his throat "Yes…" V turned and put a pair of gloves on. There was a _snap, snap _then he turned around, twirling his hands. "There, that's better. I hope I didn't put you off your appetite?" Severus shook himself, trying to rid the image from his mind and forced a small smile. "No, please, it's just, you're all right?"

"Hmm? Oh yes." V wouldn't look at Severus. Something didn't feel right about this.

"Can I ask what happened?"

V stopped cooking and looked up, almost as if he was looking far across time, at something that had happened in that was long past. "There was a fire," he explained, "a long time ago. Ancient history for some. Not really good table conversation." Brightening, V turned back around with that same odd smile on his mask. "Now, would you care for a cup of tea with your egg?" Wanting to know more, but afraid to push the subject, Severus dropped the thought from his mind and said, "Yes thank you, I'm starving." Sitting down at a small kitchen table, Severus took a bite of a piece of toast with a fried egg on top of it. The taste was remarkable. "Oh, god. I haven't had real butter in years." Severus looked up at V suspiciously. "Where did you get it?"

"Uhh.. Government supply train on its way to the High Chancellor." At this confession, Severus literally choked. "You stole this from Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes." Oh God, Severus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're insane."

"I dare do all that become a man, he who dares more is none."

"Macbeth."

V nodded, impressed. "Yes."

"My mum. She used to read all his plays to me." Severus couldn't help but smile at the memories that floated to the surface of his mind. And he allowed them for once. There was the pain, as there always was when he thought about his family, because no matter what fond memory played itself over in his head, it always led to… other memories. Ones that he spent every night, lying awake in bed and trying so hard to just _forget_.

But, maybe this time, the pain was worth it. Severus thought about how when other children were hearing stories of princesses and dragons, he heard about mad kings, insane princes, and forbidden love affairs. "Ever since, I've always wanted to act, in plays, movies. When I was ten, I played Duke in The Twelfe Night… Mum was very proud."

"May I ask where your mother is now, Severus?"

"She's dead." Severus deadpanned.

V inclined his head. "Oh. I'm very sorry."

Severus looked at V and decided to venture out on a limb. If he was going to be living here for a year, he would be needing some answers. "Can I ask you something? Did you mean what you said on the telly?"

"Every word," V declared.

"And do you really believe that blowing up Parliament is going to make this country a better place?"

V shrugged. "There's no certainty, only opportunity."

Severus shook his head. "Well, I think you can be certain that if anyone does show up, Potter will black bag every one of them."

V leaned forward and said with utter conviction, "People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people."

"And you're going to make that happen by blowing up a building?" Severus just didn't see how such an act would help the world. V seemed to sense this and tried to explain.

"The building is a symbol. As is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. The act of blowing a building is meaningless, but with enough people, blowing up a building can change the world."

Shaking his head, Severus didn't try to keep the doubt and sorrow from reaching his eyes when he looked up at V. "I wish I believed that was possible. But every time I've seen this world change, it's always been for the worse."

Suddenly, neither of them was very hungry anymore.

VVV

Far above the Shadow Gallery in a completely different part of London, Cornelius Fudge was standing in a lavish black marble bathroom, popping several different multicolored pills in his mouth while lip syncing a long with that night's broadcast of the Voice of London.

"I'll tell you what I know. This is not man. A man does not wear a mask. A man does not threaten innocent civilians. That's what every goddamn terrorist is, a goddamn coward!"

Losing all clout in the ministry had been hard. It had also proven that Dumbledore had, indeed, been after his job. Well, not Minister of Magic. Fudge had been very surprised when the old wizard had gotten magical and muggle folk alike to vote him High Chancellor of England.

Any objections Fudge may have had were silenced when he was given a very high paid and very cushy government job. He was head honcho of his own little circle for once. No Lucius Malfoy to answer to and no Wizengamot breathing down his back. He was able to do almost whatever he wanted, so long as he did "whatever" to the right people. People who had "disappeared" long ago into the arms of the Head so that they could be done away with, no questions asked. Fudge had taken a great deal of joy in doing away with many of the people that Harry Potter had entrusted to him.

When Cornelius had been keeping up with Death Eater files in the Ministry, he had never been able to wrap his mind around people like Bellatrix Lestrange- people who personally liked to see what the inside of a human may look like, while said human was still alive. It took Fudge less than a month to give into his curiosity. Questions he had had about such practices were fulfilled with the help of a young muggle girl with blonde hair and olive skin. By the time the girl's frayed nerves had given out and her hands (sans fingernails thanks to a pair of pliers) had ceased to flex in time with Fudge's unnatural administrations, Cornelius had found a new hobby. Fudge had always likened the child's death rattle with the dawning of a new era for him. One where he could do as he wished, and never be bothered.

However, it was hard to not be bothered when one was the face of one of the most viewed shows on television. As the phone rang, Fudge paused his televised tirade to see if his assistant had gotten his message, never mind that it was so very late at night.

"There will be no negotiation." Fudge replied immediately. "When I arrive in the morning, the paddy will be gone." Nearly spilling the glass of brandy he'd been holding, Fudge gesticulated frantically at his paused image on the television screen. "I'm looking at the tape right now and he has _no_ idea how to light me. My nose looks like Big fucking Ben! Listen to me, you bleeding sod! England prevails because I say it does! And so does every lazy arse on this show. Now find me another lighting director or find yourself another job!" Fudge slammed the phone down and twisted a shower knob.

As water and steam began to fill the ornate bathroom, a dark figure entered the lobby of Fudge's apartment building. No one noticed as the cloaked man scanned a media pass through the heavily guarded elevator. However, as the figure stepped inside the lift, computers within the security system logged that an office assistant, Severus Snape, had used his press pass to gain access to Fudge's floor.

Standing under a stream of hot water, Fudge recited that night's script along with his televised voice. "I'll tell you what I wish, I wish I'd been there! I wish I had the chance for a face to face, that's all I need!" His eyes closed under the water, Fudge did not see his visitor enter the room, nor did he hear the soft click of the bathroom door shutting. "This so called V and his _accomplice,_ Severus Snape- neo demigods spouting their message of hate by delivering a terrorist message should be met with swift justice." Fudge turned off the water and grabbed a towel nearby. He continued reciting while he wrapped it around his waist. "The moral of the story is, ladies and gentlemen, that good guys win, bad guys lose and as always England Prevails!" With a smirk, Fudge turned the television off with a push a button. His smirk fell away when he saw a smiling Guy Fawke's mask staring back at him.

"Holy Christ!" Spinning around in a panic, Fudge slipped on the wet marble and landed hard on his plump toweled arse. "Good evening, Commander Fudge," V crooned while he slipped the media pass he'd stolen from Severus' bag into his coat pocket.

"Oh god, how did you get in here." Not waiting for an answer, Fudge reached for the phone he had so recently hung up.

"Don't worry," V announced, "I've made sure our reunion won't be interrupted by any pesky late night phone calls... Commander." Terror gripped Fudge.

"Stop that! Why do you keep calling me that?"

The smile on the mask seemed to stretch larger as V walked towards Fudge. "That was your title when we first met, was is not? All those years ago." V's false smile, and his voice turned chillingly cold. "You wore a uniform in those days." Memories of when Fudge had known this man surfaced immediately to his mind, almost as if they had been forced there. Drug up from the darkest corners of his mind. Images of prisoners, heads shaved and diseased. Himself torturing a young boy with a cattle prod. Overseeing the filling a mass grave with the naked and starved bodies of men and women. And the last one…A tall dark figure, standing silhouetted against a blazing fire. The magic that all the Healers had tried to so hard to strip him of whirling about, out of control.

Fudge knew who this man was. Never had he thought they would meet. Not even when he had come back to wage war a second time.

"You… It is you!"

V leaned down so that his face was a mere inch from Fudge's bulbous nose.

"Yes… The ghost of Christmas past!"

VVVVV

Author's Note: I took artistic liberty with the back ground stories. There's not much included in the movie, book, or comic about some of the characters' pasts. The reader/viewer is just given some clues and then trusted to form their own opinions, but I personally like back ground. It gives me a better understanding of the character in question.

Plus, Fudge just rubs me the wrong way. He seems like a creepy, crawly guy. I dunno. Hope that part wasn't too intense. It was kind of hard to write. I'm totally not one for macabre.


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